Outcasts
by fandom-and-stuffs
Summary: There are Angels, Demons, and Humans. Dean is a rare Demon born with a soul. Castiel is an Angel without wings. And when they meet, well... some shit goes down. There's a fine line between Heaven and Hell, and it's what happens on earth that sends you up or down.
1. Dean

There are Angels and there are Humans and there are Demons.

Sometimes they interbreed, and you get a Nephilm or a demon child.

Sometimes, they interbreed and you get a fully human child, and then future generations run the risk of having a full-blood Demon as a child.

And that's how Dean Winchester came to be. Many generations before, a Demon was in the family line, and now Dean has the weight of Demon hood upon him, and his brother Sam has some Demon blood.

But the thing is, Dean isn't a normal Demon, or even the same as the other Demons born into human families that make up five percent of the Demon population. You see, Demons don't have souls. Angels have their grace, humans have souls, but Demons have nothing. Little remorse or care at all.

Dean does. Dean has a soul.

No one know why, or how. But he does. He has remorse and he loves and he cares. You'd think that made him some approximation of human, maybe. Unfortunately, Dean is still a demon, with powers and black eyes.

He used to wish he wasn't, but something happened a little while ago that made him kind of glad.

And that, dear readers, is where Dean's time in this story begins.

Dean didn't even know what he was until he was twelve. He was with some friends, and they ended up having an argument – a silly, petty thing – which turned into a fight. They punched and kicked and the other boy girl nearly broke Dean's nose. He snarled and hit out hard, his eyes went black when he blinked. Everyone screamed, running away as Dean stood there, angry and confused. His eyes were still black when he got home, which didn't exactly go well with his parents. His mother screamed and shielded Sam, as if he was going to hurt his own brother. His father slapped him and tried to exorcise him; which of course didn't work because he wasn't possessed, he just _was_. And when it didn't work, Dean had been taken in by the higher Demon Alistair, who tried to teach him to torture. Key word: tried. Dean wasn't too great at torturing innocent people, due to his soul. Still, forty years in the Demon's realm (Hell) taught him some things. He could torture. He just didn't want to.

After he left Hell, it had only been four years on Earth, and he returned home.

He tried to get in, but his family had warded against Demons – he was barred from the home he had had since he was born. And that is truly when this tale starts, because when Dean found himself with nowhere to go, he decided he didn't need anyone and holed himself up in an big old house at the edge of town near and abandoned junk yard called 'Singer Salvage' according to the rusty sign outside.

So in the house of the dead old man Dean stayed. In that very house, it turned out, he would meet someone very important.

Very important indeed.


	2. Castiel

There are Angels and there are Humans and there are Demons.

Sometimes they interbreed, and you get a Nephilm or a demon child.

Sometimes, if a Human is in an Angel line, many generations later an Angel can be born with a 'defect'.

This is very rare, there could be maybe two of these 'defected' Angels in a generation.

And that's who Castiel is. An Angel, with a 'defect'. And that would be alright, if Castiel's 'defect' wasn't something that is a big part of the Angels as a whole.

He doesn't have wings.

He has everything every other Angel has – grace, healing powers, all the rights that come with being a resident of Heaven, the Angel's realm. Just not wings. Meaning he can't fly.

He was bullied about this, and he was barely a part of his family save for living in his home.

He used to despise being Flightless. But something happened a little while ago that made him kind of glad for his lack of wings.

That is where Castiel comes in.

Of course, he has been Flightless all of his life. He is not one of the disgraced Angles who were stripped of their wings and became Human; he is just and Angel without wings. Castiel was tormented by his brothers and classmates for years; every day was taunted in the morning, no friends during school and trying to avoid attention as he went straight to his room at home. His life was pretty much Groundhog day, except for those rare times when he could just go out to the park and walk around. No one stopped him or laughed at him, because they just thought he was a normal Human taking a stroll. Castiel wished he was Human, or that at least he had wings, but no, he thought to himself every day, I have to get the worst luck of them all.

When he got to school, Castiel was always careful to avoid walking anywhere near any Angels or Demons. He generally avoided most Humans as well, but he had found that they were slightly less judging about his missing wings and so he felt comfortable just walking past them and not making eye contact.

One of the tiring school days Castiel decided he just couldn't take it anymore. The taunts were just too much and he left that very day. He walked two miles from the heart of the town and found himself skirting the edge of his home.

He walked straight past his own home and headed further away from the jeers that had followed him all of his life. Soon enough he came across a junk yard, filled with rusting carsand weeds and at the back of the junk yard there was an abandoned house, barley standing, Castiel thought.

He went in. Good job he did, too. There, that house, was where Castiel met the most meaningful someone he would ever meet.

Ever.


	3. Chapter One

Dean put his things down in the dusty corner of what once was a kitchen. He didn't have much; some clothes, an amulet his brother had given to him, his gun and a knife, all shoved into a bag. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.  
"How the hell did I end up here?" He muttered to himself with a shake of his head. Demons don't sleep, so Dean had plenty of time on his hands before he had to do anything at all. He decided to look around, after all, who knew how long he was going to be staying there?

Castiel ran down the road as fast as he could, his schoolbag flying behind him. He didn't know where he was going but he knew he had to go. Before he started doing something that he would regret. Soon he reached an old shack – well, not a shack exactly, but a house that was definitely long since abandoned. There was little left of the door and everything was covered in dust, Cas noticed as he entered the place. He walked through to what could be a study going by the desk (surprisingly intact). He threw his bag to the other side of the room and curled up in a corner, trying to keep his breathing in check.

Dean was about to exit the kitchen when he heard a soft thump come from behind the wooden panels that he had noticed moments before. He was going to put it down to something falling off a rusty shelf or the like when he heard something else – this time, it was half-gasps coming from the same place as the thump. He quickly pulled both his gun and his knife from his bag, tucking his knife into his belt and holding his gun up, finger on the trigger. Dean approached the panels and slowly pulled them open, revealing an empty study. He frowned.  
"Hello? He called out. "Someone there?" There was no reply. "I have a gun, you better come out!" He exclaimed. Expecting nothing, he was about to turn around when-  
"Don't sh-oo-shoot!" A timid voice squeaked from behind the wooden desk. And then also from behind that desk emerged a boy about Dean's own age, in a t-shirt some black pants and a trench coat. He had black, messy hair and startling blue eyes and he was shining in Dean's eyes. So bright, so bright that he could only be an Angel. Castiel was staring back at Dean and seeing something a little different to blinding grace – darkness and hatred that was Demon to a T. He could see a twisted true face behind Dean's dirty blond hair and bright green eyes.  
"_Demon_." Castiel hissed and pulled out his angel blade – a shining silver thing that was a little longer than a dagger and shorter than a sword. Demons and Angels hate each other and always will. There is a natural aversion between the species for reasons unknown, so when Dean saw the Angel, especially with a blade, he fell back on his natural instincts to attack.

"Angel." Dean nodded at the boy, quickly stepping to the side to avoid being stabbed whilst pulling out his own knife. Maybe it wouldn't kill the Angel but it would certainty incapacitate him. He swung the blade at him, but only managed to nick his cheek. With feral grunts they slashed and stabbed at each other but nothing really happened until Dean managed to knock Castiel over and send him flying into the wall. Picking up the angel blade from where Castiel had dropped it and walking across the room Dean frowned at the Angel.  
"Sorry about this, but-'' Dean was cut off by the boy's surprised and confused stare. "What?" He asked, irritated.  
"What did you just say?" Castiel asked, cocking his head at the Demon, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.  
"I said, 'what?'" Dean replied with a roll of his eyes.  
"No, no. Before that." Castiel took the opportunity of standing up while Dean had his guard down briefly.  
"Uh, 'sorry about this', why? Oh." Dean shook his head and laughed. "Dammit." He said, shaking his head.  
"You said sorry. But Demons don't do that. And you're definitely a Demon, so…" Castiel implored silently. And then he saw. Underneath all of that darkness and things that were Demon, was… a soul. A Human soul. Castiel looked at him with wonder and shock.  
"You have a soul." Dean laughed.  
"Ha! Ha! Yeah, I have a soul." Dean replied, still chastising himself internally for showing some _goddamn remorse_. "Fat lot of good it does for me, though." He growled in frustration and kicked the desk. Of course, he wasn't just getting angry over nothing. Dean was so angry because this had happened before, with pretty much every Demon he had ran into in Hell had pointed that out, and in such a condensing manner too. He had hoped that once he got back to Earth maybe all the stares and such would stop, but that was obviously not the case.  
"But… how? Demons - Demons don't have souls of any form!" Castiel insisted, still in a defensive position. Dean sighed deeply and considered stabbing him.  
"It's kind of complicated. Long story. But yeah… I have a soul. I'm pretty sure."  
"Is that why you are here?"  
"Why the questions man? We were fighting like, twenty seconds ago."  
"I'm curious. I have heard of Demons with… strange conditions, but never of anything like this." Castiel sighed and relaxed his posture slightly. "Why were we fighting?" Dean shrugged, but did not adjust his own position.  
"Dunno. Some sort of inbuilt species-thing. Not the biggest Demon/Angel history expert, myself." Then Dean laughed out loud at the Angel's confused expression.  
"Species-thing? I don't think that I am familiar with that term. Now, Demon, why don't we sit down and talk like civilized people?" Dean, by way of an answer, put his knife back in his belt with his gun. "Good. So, what is your name?"

A few minutes later they were seated at the desk next to the sink, oven and such in the dusty kitchen. Dean was leaning back on his chair and nearly bumping his head on the cupboard behind him whilst Castiel was sitting straight up, almost rigidly so.  
"Dean Winchester. You?" Dean curiously raised his eyebrows at Castiel.  
"Castiel. Just Castiel." He replied. Dean frowned.  
"Castiel, hey? Bit of a mouthful... how about I call you Cas instead. What do you say?" Castiel – _Cas_ – nodded. Nicknames hadn't been much in his favour, but then it was usually his brothers teasing him about his winglessness. He liked this one.  
"So, Cas, why are you even here? Angel like you, shouldn't you be in school or some shit?" Cas sighed and nodded.  
"I-I, yeah. I should. But I ran off." Dean frowned. He didn't see why an Angel would just run away from school to come to some derelict building.  
"What, were you too stressed or something?" Cas swallowed. He didn't want to tell this stranger; this _Demon_ about his wings. Or not about his wings. Whatever.  
"Something like that, yes," He shrugged. Dean gave him a confused, noncommittal look before plonking the legs of his chair on the floor. "What about you, Dean Winchester? I mean, it's a little obvious why you're here. Then… why here?" Dean screwed up his face.  
"No idea. Just seemed like a good place to go." There was an awkward silence for a few moments before Dean scraped his chair (making Cas wince slightly) and stood up, stretching.  
"Well, you're going to have to go somewhere else, angel. You can't stay here, because I'm not moving." Cas raised his eyebrows.  
"Why can't we both stay here? If I keep out of your way, there's no problem. I'm not leaving either." _Stubborn son of a bitch_, Dean thought at almost the exact same time as Castiel. Actually, maybe that last bit was just Dean. Cas wasn't one for much profanity.  
"Fine," Dean agreed. "You keep out of my way, I'll keep out of yours."  
"Agreed," Cas said with a smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dean Winchester."


	4. Chapter Two

Castiel and Dean ignored each other as agreed for three weeks. It probably would have gone on longer if Cas hadn't nearly gotten decapitated.

You see, Dean was doing target practice, throwing his knife at the study wall. And then Cas walked in, crossing the room just as Dean threw his knife and it flew about a millimetre in front of Cas' face.  
"Sorry man," Dean apologized from the top of a small couch against the other wall. "Didn't see you there." Cas scowled and pulled the knife from the wall before throwing it straight back at Dean. So that was it.

The next time they spoke it was for slightly longer, and because of Dean's curiosity.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, walking through the kitchen messing with his gun. "Why are here exactly?" Cas sighed.  
"What happened to ignoring each other? And do you have to fiddle around with your weapons all of the time?" Dean shrugged and looked at Cas (who was sitting at the desk in the kitchen doing… well, nothing) expectantly. Cas opened his mouth and was about to say something when he noticed that he was shaking.  
"N-nothing that you need to know, demon." Dean's gun twitched slightly. He turned around, facing away from Castiel.  
"Do not call me that." He said, his voice low and dangerous.

Dean only found out why Cas was there one month later. Two full months of tense exchanges and one short fight were easily overcome with the great deal of respect Cas gave to Dean after he saved his life. A Demon had broken in to the house while Cas was alone; it nearly killed him.

Cas was sitting upstairs thinking as he generally spent his time doing nowadays. It wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway. Then he heard a huge crash, which – along with a sharp smell of sulphur - sent him sprinting down the stairs to see what in hell was going on. And there, at the base of the staircase, was a skinny man with blonde hair and black eyes holding a wickedly sharp knife that looked like it should be used for intricate torture and not being wielded against anyone in a fight. Cas went straight for his blade up his sleeve – but it wasn't there. He had left it upstairs. He stood there, frozen with fear until the Demon lunged at him, blade outstretched. Cas tried to duck and managed to knock the man over into the ground. Unfortunately he was at a loss for what to do next as the Demon would get up in just a few moments and he had no weapon or any way to incapacitate him as there was no way he was going to get close enough to smite him. Sure enough, his opponent was straight up and slicing at him once more. Cas managed to avoid most of the hits by diving to each side and underneath the knife, but he was soon taken down; pinned to the wall by the blade.  
"Gonna fly away, Angel?" The Demon said tauntingly, pulling another, smaller, weapon from his pocket and advancing slowly towards Castiel. "No? Good. I'm going to gut you like a _fish_, Ang-" But he never got to finish his sentence. His face lit up with the pale ghost of a skull and he fell to the ground at Cas' feet, much to his surprise. The Demon was dead. Because there in the doorway was none other than Dean Winchester, looking more than a little confused.

"Cas? What the hell, dude?" Castiel swallowed and looked down at the corpse that had Dean's blade buried in the back of it.  
"I have no idea." Cas replied, shaking his head. He pulled the knife attaching him to the wall away carefully.  
"No, I mean seriously, what the hell? Why was there a Demon here? And why was he about to kill you?" Dean looked at him expectantly and incredulously.  
"I do not know. The motives of Demons isn't exactly my strong point."  
"Well I figured. But he was about to stab you and you were doing nothing about it. Explain that!"  
"What do you mean?" Cas was confused. "What could I possibly have done?" Dean raised his eyebrows.  
"You're an _Angel_. Fly away." Dean said, almost mimicking the other Demon. Cas started shaking and he realised he could hear his every heartbeat. He opened his mouth to speak but ten closed it again and swallowed hard. He took a deep breath.  
"I can't." Cas whispered.  
"What?" Dean frowned.  
"I can't," Cas repeated, a little louder. "I can't fly away. I can't fly." Dean took a step back.  
"Wait, what? How can you not fly?"  
"I don't have. I don't. Wings. I don't have wings." Cas pressed his lips tightly together and looked down at the floor and straight up again, right at Dean. Dean was standing there with his head tilted slightly to the side, his mouth open a little and his eyebrows tightly knit.  
"What do you mean, you don't have wings? Isn't that kind of what makes an Angel an Angel?" He enquired.  
"Well, it depends on who you talk to in and out of Angel communities. I am an Angel in every other sense. I just don't have wings."  
"Why?" Cas sighed. He had been asked that question by every single Angel he met (as wings are on a different plane of existence to the one Angels, Demons, and Humans reside in and only Angels, most Demons and some Humans can see them) and to that day he did not have an answer. In fact, he was beginning to think that he would never know at all.  
"I don't know. My family and I _have_ speculated, but no one has any idea why I am wingless."  
"Right." Dean coughed and looked at the ceiling. "Sucks, doesn't it?" Cas blinked at Dean.  
"What does?" He asked innocently.  
"Being the freak. The _abomination_." Dean replied with a sneer. Cas winced slightly. He **hated **that word. "What?" Dean looked worried.  
"My-my brothers. Raphael, Michael, Lucifer… they used to call me that. Abomination. Please don't say anything. I do not want to talk about it." Cas finished, seeing Dean's half-open mouth.  
"Okay. Wait, you have three brothers?" Cas shook his head.  
"Actually, I have four. And a sister, but she's only eight. Michael and Lucifer are twins, and then there's Raphael. They are the only ones who… well. And Gabriel, he is actually quite civil when he's not pranking you. And my sister is Anna." Dean laughed and Cas flipped his head up quickly, surprised.  
"Wow. Big family, then."  
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this." Cas said, embarrassed.  
"No, no, no, man. It's cool. I've only got a brother." Dean sobered up a little. "I, uh, don't really know what's going on with him. I actually haven't seen him in years. And my dad ain't too great either. And my Mom is… I don't know. So, you know, we could start a club!" He flapped his hands around and laughed sarcastically.  
"Yes, a club. For people with abhorrent families. How fun." Cas looked disdainful.  
"Ab-what now? Nah; we should call it the 'Sucky Families Club'. Sounds less pretentious." Cas sighed and shook his head. Dean was getting annoying at this point.  
"Anyway, Cas. See you around." Dean said with a smirk. He started to turn away, but Cas stopped him.  
"We are staying in the same house, Dean. Of course you'll see me." Dean smirked, again. The Angel clenched his teeth, irritated.  
"Precisely. Oh, and Cas?" He indicated to the body lying half-forgotten on the floor. "You get to clean up." Dean gave him a satisfied smile and teleported himself back to the kitchen, just for dramatic flair. Unfortunately this didn't work very well as he was slightly off with his teleporting and ended up knocking the table over. Which of course Cas heard. And laughed at. _Douche_, Dean thought to himself.

**A.N: Update's a bit late, sorry. **


End file.
